


Less, More, Enough

by daintylemonsquare



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But a little bit to the left, Canon Compliant, M/M, This is my thesis on How Juliark Can Still Win, Unprotected Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28249308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daintylemonsquare/pseuds/daintylemonsquare
Summary: Clark wants to make sure Julian knows someone's there for him.
Relationships: Julian Larson-Armstrong/Clark Sawyer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Less, More, Enough

**Author's Note:**

> If I make any inaccuracies about Julian's recovery, look away and pretend I did it right.

Clark visited when he could. Ever since Julian woke up and decided to recover in LA, Clark found the time. Julian had plenty of friends here, there was no denying that. His house was full of well-wishing gifts from people who meant well and from people who wanted him to know they meant well. Clark and their mutual friends were the former. But there was only so much these gifts could do before they became part of the scenery, forgotten in its familiarity, in it’s constant, nagging presence. Knowing Julian, he’d have them thrown out or donated before long. Clark decided that, first, giving these little care packages in person was the way to go, and then second, that Julian needed to see a friendly face.

Even when he was turned away at the door, for one reason or the other (Julian was resting, Julian was doing PT), Clark always asked Carmen or whoever was there to serve as guard dog to give Julian his best and to check his messages. That was enough for Clark on that day.

The messages weren’t anything substantial. He knew Julian wouldn’t reply with anything substantial, if he replied at all. He texted Julian’s old number and new number, to make sure he saw them. Clark never asked him anything. Never asked him how he was or how PT was going. They were messages as if none of that were happening, except with a little bit more care. “Hope you’re having a decent day,” most of them said. “Here’s a video that Sinny shared with the band. I think it’ll make you smile,” some of them said. “Missing you at set. Kit isn’t as fun as you are but he’s a lot nicer lmao,” this one said, and with it was a picture of Clark’s trailer couch and the space Julian always sat. It had a piece of paper taped on one of the pillows that said “reserved for Julian Larson.” This one actually got a reply. A lone laughing emoji. That was enough for Clark. 

Whenever he did get a chance to see Julian in the flesh, he tried not to stare at the differences (the lack of luster in his skin, the weight loss, the wheelchair). Julian didn’t like that. Clark asked and Julian said so. Every time he was able to be around Julian, he waited for Julian to ask for help or for Julian to answer when he asked how he wanted to be treated when they were getting a snack, or going up the stairs, or picking Sneakers up, or all of these small things that Clark worried would break Julian but didn’t. He waited and listened. He didn’t want Julian to do anything he shouldn’t or couldn’t do, but he also didn’t want to come off overbearing. Dolce did enough of that. Clark was the mom-friend, but Julian didn’t need one right now, especially when there were a handful of them at any given time.

“Thanks for coming,” Julian said when it was time for Clark to leave.

“Thanks for letting me in,” Clark replied. He opened his arms. “Can I get a hug goodbye?”

Julian was looking up at him from his wheelchair, face blank. Clark faltered a little bit, worrying if he should’ve asked for a hug when he was sitting with Julian on the couch. Then Julian sighed. “Yeah, sure.”

Clark leaned gave him the tightest hug he could muster. “Thanks,” Julian whispered, “for not treating me like I’m going to break when I move.”

“You’re one of the most stubborn, bitchiest people I know. Nothing could break you, J. Not without your permission,” Clark said. Julian snorted and Clark pulled away to catch Julian’s smile. “Take care. I’ll see you when I see you, okay?”

“Okay.”

No one could pretend it was normal and it wasn’t a regular injury where he could sign a cast and it was cute. This was more. Too much more. He couldn’t imagine what Julian must be going through so he didn’t make assumptions unless it came directly from Julian.

Julian cried once around him. They were watching an animated movie—Julian’s choice. Clark didn’t question it. They sat in attentive silence when he heard sniffling. It wasn’t even an emotional part of the movie yet. He turned to Julian, who was trying to blink it away, wipe it away, but was failing.

“Julian?” Clark asked.

Julian turned to him, lip trembling, eyes reddening. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s stupid,” he said.

“I doubt it if it’s got you all worked up.” Clark turned, tucking one leg underneath the other. “I’m here to listen. Or if you just want to cry, you can. You don’t have to talk to me if you want to reserve it for your therapist.”

Julian rubbed his face and then pulled his knees close to his chest. He crossed his arms, holding onto the hem of his long sleeves, leaning them on his knees. Then he buried his face into it. He didn’t sob, he didn’t wail. He shook and sniffled and took deep, congested breaths into the fabric of his sweater. Clark scootched toward him but didn’t touch him. When he resurfaced, pulling back from his damp sleeves, he said, “I’m afraid. Clark, what if I won’t be able to do anything anymore? What if I won’t be able to do my job because I’m too weak or too frail or too broken? Like, physical therapy is taking ages and I don’t feel like I’m getting better. And it might take years and that’s years out of my career. I just feel like everything’s fucked. Like I can’t do anything anymore and I’m fucked. And I’m afraid that all my roles are just because I’m a Larson, an Armstrong. And if not that, then maybe pity roles because they feel bad this happened to me. And the fans. God. How can I be around fans anymore? I feel like I’m just going to live in fear of the next Adam and I don’t want to. I really don’t but I’m afraid that I will. I’m so fucking afraid. Every day I’m afraid of one thing to the next and it never ends and what if it’s going to be like this for the rest of my life?” His voice cracked and so did his resolve. He buried his face again into his sleeves and his shuddering breaths were much more pronounced than they were earlier.

“Wait here.” Clark went Julian’s bathroom and grabbed a box of tissues. He set it aside before taking a hold of one of Julian’s arm. “It’s okay. Just cry it out. I’m right here if you need me.”

When all the shaking turned into quiet sniffling, Clark, with his hand still on Julian’s arm, squeezed, and asked, “Do you wanna know what I think?”

Julian sighed. “Sure,” he said and it broke Clark’s heart to see one of the brightest young stars in Hollywood sound so defeated.

“I think that being afraid is okay. After all that you’ve been through, I’d be more surprised if you weren’t afraid every day. But it won’t be like that forever. Therapy isn’t easy. Physical or the mental type. It won’t be like a switch flipped and you’re better again. And that’s okay. And you’re seventeen. You’re only turning eighteen this year. I know that isn’t much coming from me but you’ve got time. There will be roles that you’ll love and you’ll take. There will be projects given to you because you’re a good actor, not because they pity you or that your parents made them give it to you. You’ll lose more time if you rush into it. Show business may not stop for anyone, but you won’t be forgotten if you take a break. Especially not after this. You’ll get through this. It won’t be easy and you’ll have days like this where you feel like you won’t get through it. But you will. I believe you will even if you don’t believe yourself.”

Clark paused to gauge how Julian was taking it in. He wasn’t kicked out yet. Julian wasn’t demanding for him to shut up. All he did was look up, not with a cold, emotionless expression but a pensive one. He wiped his face with his sleeve. Clark offered the tissues, which he took. Julian blew his nose.

“Sorry,” Julian murmured.

“It’s fine.” Clark opened his arms. “Hug?”

Julian sighed, then nodded. Clark embraced him and wished he could take that fear away and carry it himself, but he knew that this was Julian’s to bear and he was going to learn to live with it until he was strong enough to throw it off himself.

They didn’t have many conversations like this. They watched movies, listened to music, and ate some of the food that Julian kept getting sent by the many people who cared or wanted him to know that they cared. Clark only talked about work when Julian asked. Julian only talked about his feelings when he decided to. When he did decide to, Clark did his best not to offer advice unless he felt like he really had something to say. He listened and nodded and hugged. He did manage to convince Julian to talk to his friends. No matter what the cast thought of the boys from Dalton, Clark knew they were important, even if Julian didn’t talk much about them. Clark understood it, in theory, to have people outside of the Hollywood glitz to make him feel normal. It was like having a separate set of people for work and for relaxation. Work-life balance, and all that. Regardless, he knew they were special to Julian. He didn’t know the whole story but he knew enough. Reed told him.

Julian didn’t talk about it next time Clark visited him but he did notice that Julian was on his old phone more often. It was those little things that Clark noticed that Julian was getting better. He was picking movies that weren’t animated. He was singing along when they listened to music. He was getting himself water from the kitchen instead of just having a pitcher on a nearby table. Not all the time, but it was indication enough. Clark wasn’t surprised to hear that Julian wanted to go to the Dalton prom. If he was going to make his first public appearance since the incident, it was going to be then.

Julian flew with Haven. They went to Dalton first to set up, and practice, and to see Reed. Julian stayed in his hotel room, talking to his therapist over Skype. It wasn’t an easy pill to swallow, going back to the scene of the crime, but Julian was committed. And when Julian committed himself to something, he was going to follow it through. The fire might’ve dimmed into ember but he could see it growing again behind Julian’s eyes. He was proud to see it. He knew there was no way Julian was going to let this be the thing that made him give up.

He came with Haven to Dalton, though they tried to get in without him being seen. He had to walk, refusing to be carried by Sinny, so no one honed in on the person being wheeled in. No one spotted him, and thought that took a lot out of him, Julian was grinning like he’d just pulled off a heist. He sat in the back to rest after wishing Haven luck. Clark wasn’t sure what Julian told his friends, but he could see him tapping away at his phone.

It was during a slow song that Clark sang that he heard the gasps and murmurs through the crowd. One of his friends, Derek, brought him out from the back. The taller one, Logan, rushed to his side. Julian waved and, for once during their set, no one paid them attention. Clark didn’t care. All he saw were all these people who cared about Julian in one way or the other. He was happy to see Julian smiling and hugging people he hadn’t seen in a while. All of them boys who Clark saw running into the flames of the Art Hall. This was what Julian deserved, knowing that no one blamed him for what happened, that people cared.

Clark tried not to cry. He had a couple more slow songs to sing for the couples out there.

He did notice, during one of the songs, Julian being carted out of Orion Hall by Logan. With what little he knew, he wasn’t able to imagine what conversation they were going to have out there. Still, he was happy they were talking at all. Whatever happened, Clark decided he was going to be happy that Julian allowed himself to talk to his friends.

He focused on the song and the rest of the set. He tried not to look around or search for Julian. He had enough of him in Hollywood. Julian needed the break. Clark didn’t want to think about it too much.

When it was time to fly back to LA, Julian was still with them. His therapists were in LA, but he didn’t have plans to find new ones in Ohio, if ever he decided. He had the summer to think it through. Clark imagined the next few months without having Julian to visit if he went back. While the prospect made him glad, it was shaded by a bit of melancholy. He was going to miss Julian. He always missed Julian when he left for Dalton. But this meant he was doing better. Clark couldn’t be too down about it.

They were waiting in line for take-off. This was going to delay their arrival but they didn’t have anything urgent waiting for them so they got comfortable. Clark and Julian flipped through the in-flight entertainment until they found a movie they didn’t have to pay attention to and at the same time didn’t dislike entirely. Julian was scrolling through his phone messages. Clark was staring outside the window as rain started to fall, thinking of the last few days.

He faced Julian. “Is it weird that I miss you already?”

Julian locked his phone. “Yeah. It’s not like I’m going for sure.” Clark fixed him a look. Julian rolled his eyes. “I really am not. I have a lot to think about over the summer. You’re soft but you’re going way too soft, Popstar.”

Clark chuckled. “It seemed to me that you’ve got a lot of reason to go back. Getting your diploma, for one. Your friends. That guy Logan.” Julian’s jest fell of his face. “What? It’s not like it wasn’t easy to figure out. You two were glued to each other’s side the whole night.”

“He’s my best friend,” Julian said. “One of them.”

“And…” Clark prodded. He expected Julian to dismiss him.

Instead, Julian said, “Do you want the long story or the short story?”

“We have a thirty-minute wait for takeoff and a four-hour flight. I think you know the answer.”

Julian sighed. “Do you think Raven will sneak me some wine?”

“No.” Clark smiled.

“Fine.”

Julian told him. From start to finish, he told him and they were barely through the first hour in the air. It was a story about him falling in love with his best friend and how it got too messy the year before and then how everything got worse and how it was all tangled up. He was unraveling it with his therapist, but his therapist also encouraged him to unravel it with his friends. He talked about talking to Logan during prom, then after prom, and how it was nice to feel like friends again. That was when Julian trailed off.

“Does he love you back?” Clark finally asked.

Julian shrugged. “He hasn’t decided yet. I think he’s confused. I am too. And honestly, I’m too tired for this. I’ve always daydreamed about when I’d have the guts to tell him and now that he knows…After everything…There’s just so much going on between the two of us, so much baggage, so much bullshit. I don’t wanna touch it unless I have a therapist present, you know?”

Clark nodded to himself and glanced away from Julian for just a moment before saying, “No, I don’t know, but you deserve someone who’ll love you back, head first, eyes closed.”

Julian smiled and it was so nice to see him smile like that again. “Yeah. Thanks, Clark. We’ll figure something out over the summer. He and Derek are visiting at the end of it when I’m hopefully better.” He paused. “I’m honestly scared. I know that nothing is as bad as I think it is but I’m still scared.”

“Julian?” Clark said. Julian’s eyes focused into the present and out of the spiral he was looking into. Clark held out his hand. Julian took it. The tender warmth of his palm against Clark’s sent the tiniest ripple across his heartbeats, making each of them trip little by little. “You’ve gotten through a lot the last few months. You’ll get through this. And know that I’ll still be there when you need me.”

“I know,” Julian said, squeezing his hand.

Clark considered bringing Julian’s hand to his lips, but didn’t. He stared, seeing a young man who was surviving and choosing to move forward, and not hiding behind his sunglasses except for when the sun was too bright. This was all Clark needed to see, really.

Julian didn’t break his gaze. He couldn’t tell what Julian was thinking but he could only hope it’s in the vicinity of what he was thinking or feeling. He could only hope. “Thanks for always being there, Clark,” Julian said.

“Of course,” Clark replied. “You’re my fifth best friend.”

Julian chortled. “Who’s the first?”

“Depends on which of them pisses me off the least.”

“It’s Mikey, isn’t it?”

“It’s always Mikey.”

It didn’t have to be anything more. As long as Julian was happy, it didn’t need to be.

But, as the hours in the air sauntered by, and Julian’s head was on Clark’s shoulder even though their seats reclined all the way down, Clark wondered if he could have a little bit more or if he was being too greedy. He reached for Julian’s limp hand on the arm rest between them. It twitched when their fingers brushed together. Julian shifted and nuzzled into his neck. His fingers curled around Clark’s. Clark smiled to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Song I listened to on repeat while writing this:   
> Ever Enough by A Rocket to the Moon


End file.
